


what in carnation

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Tattoos, florist shiro, shiro low key pines for keith, tattoo artist keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9440795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Inspired by the prompt: you work at the tattoo parlor next door to my flower shop and the first time you came in i thought you were going to rob me bc holy shit that’s a LOT of tattoos and wow you just look really scary but you’re actually pretty nice??? and every time you come in you just buy a single flower and then you leave and that’s literally the only interaction we have for months until one night it’s super late when i close up and you pull up on a harley davidson and ask if i need a ride home??? uh sure thanks i guess??? and i get up the courage to ask you what you use the flowers for and turns out you use them as a reference when making flower tattoos that’s super cool tell me more (and gee whiz your helmet hair is really freaking hot wtf) au





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a man scowling at the pink tulips. In fact, scowling is an understatement. Shiro’s surprised that the poor posies haven’t withered under the man’s stare. 

 

By his side, Hunk whispers, “You  _ sure  _ I shouldn’t call 911 and tell them to send someone? Because, I’m like, 87% sure this guy is here to rob us. Those tattoos and that look on his face? He’s  _ totally  _ going to turn around any second and tell us to stick it up.”

 

Shiro shakes his head with a laugh, giving the pot of periwinkles one last spray of water before tucking the bottle under the counter. “Why would anyone want to rob a flower shop?”

 

“How should I know! I don’t know how the criminal mind works! Uh oh!” Hunk exclaims. “He’s coming over here! I’m gonna-”

 

He doesn’t even bother finishing his sentence before running off to the back of the shop. Which leaves Shiro alone behind the counter, watching this guy twirl the tulip with every step. As he approaches, Shiro observes him carefully. He’s wearing a short-sleeved black t-shirt that shows off his tattoo sleeve, skinny jeans, and boots. His hair is swept back into a loose ponytail, and his dark blue eyes are narrowed at the flower in his hand.

 

Objectively speaking, he’s a handsome looking guy. Even if he looks ready to start swinging if someone says one wrong thing to him. But as he studies the man’s body language, Shiro realizes he doesn’t see any of the usual markers. In fact. The man seems more frustrated than anything else. Something’s bothering him and  _ that’s  _ what Hunk misread as the intention to cause violence.

 

When the man slaps a ten dollar bill onto the counter, Shiro asks, “Just the one tulip?”

 

The man nods, clicking his tongue when his phone begins to ring. While Shiro works the machine, the man answers the call with a crisp, “Keith here.”

 

_ That’s a nice name _ , Shiro thinks to himself.

 

“What? Already? She’s early. No, no. Tell her I’ll be there in five minutes. Yeah, I just came down the street to the flower shop to grab a tulip. Make sure all my stuff is clean and ready for me. Yeah, the whole ink kit. Tell Lance to talk her through the process and show her the stencils, okay? I’m on my way.”

 

Shiro holds the change out but Keith waves it away, walking towards the open door. “Keep it!” He tries to tell Keith they don’t do that but the man is already out the shop, jogging down the street with the single pink tulip stick in his jeans pocket.

 

He’s still staring out the window when Hunk peeks in a few minutes later. “Is he gone?”

 

“Yeah. He had to leave. I think he works nearby.”

 

Just like that, Hunk freezes. “What? What makes you say that?”

 

“He said he’d come down the street. Do you know what kind of a job uses a ink kit and stencils?”

 

Hunk frowns deeply, “I dunno. An artist? Oh. Maybe he’s a tattoo artist! There’s even a shop a couple of minutes away.”

 

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Shiro asks, “There is? When’d that happen?”

 

Hunk gestures at him to come stand by the display window. Once there, Hunk points at a small shop all the way on the other end of the street. Shiro can  _ just  _ barely make out a lion’s head logo. He can’t tell what the sign says though. 

 

“My friend works there! I can ask him if our mystery client’s an artist there too. Did you catch his name?”

 

“Keith.” Shiro shares, feeling something shake inside of him as he shares the name. “He said his name was Keith.”

 

\--

 

Hunk’s best friend, Lance, confirms that Keith is indeed a tattoo artist at  _ Altea’s _ . He also shares that Keith is insufferable, insanely talented, and his rival. Hunk dryly adds on, “It’s a one-sided rivalry. Keith’s still not sure why Lance picks so many fights with him. I keep telling Lance to just chill but he gets super competitive with the guy.”

 

But that doesn’t explain why Keith shows up every so often to stare at a pot of flowers, always different at each visit, pluck out of the bunch, pay too much for it, and walk out the door. So far Keith’s bought a daisy, a pink lily, a peony, an orchid, a chrysanthemum, an anemone, and a dahlia. 

 

“That’s got to be the weirdest bouquet  _ ever _ ,” Hunk points out as he watches Keith dart out the shop, barking at whoever it is on the other end of the phone to not touch his tools on the pain of death.

 

Shiro nods slowly even though he’s not sure that Keith’s collecting those flowers for a bouquet. “Maybe they’re gifts for someone?” 

 

Hunk shakes his head immediately, “Na. Then he’d try to pretty them up with a ribbon or something. Besides. Why gift someone just  _ one  _ kind of a flower. Why not a small bouquet? Besides, we’ve got some perfectly nice mixed bouquets out front.”

 

“Maybe they’ve got romantic meaning or something?” The thought sends a worried pang into his heart. During the few small conversations he's had with Keith, he hasn't implied  _anything_ that would suggest he's got a partner. But he hasn't ever implied otherwise either...

 

Hunk makes a face before mumbling, “I  _ guess _ . But again, why just give them  _ one  _ of the flower? If you’re gonna drop $50 on six different flowers just buy a damn bouquet.”

 

It becomes one of their favorite things to do when they’re bored: theorize as to why Keith comes in so often to buy a single new flower every time. Sometimes they take themselves seriously. More often than not, they try to invent wild theories for the sole purpose of making each other laugh. It makes for a good way to pass the time.

 

\--

 

Shiro winds up learning the truth late one summer night. 

 

Usually it’s Aisha who closes up every day but she’d called in sick earlier in the day. Which meant Shiro had stayed behind to cover her shift. It had sucked being stuck in the shop from the early morning hours till the end of the day, but he reminds himself it’ll reflect well on his paycheck. 

 

_ Even though I don’t really have to worry about the money _ , he thinks wryly to himself, bionic arm whirring softly as he hefts two water-filled buckets up. 

 

Sometimes Shiro finds himself missing his old life: being a test pilot for the military’s latest jet planes. But he’s not sure if he’s ready to go back to it. There’s still nights where he has nightmares about his accident and his subsequent stay in the hospital. Shiro wakes up clutching his arm and burn wounds, a scream on the tip of his tongue as he searches for flame and debris in the shadows of his bedroom.

 

A lifetime of nightmares, a bionic arm that’s on the cutting edge of modern medicine, and financial independence in exchange for his silence. Shiro’s  _ still  _ not sure if he’s come out on the winning side some times. 

 

By the time he’s pushing the shutters down, Shiro’s thoughts are spiralling towards morose. He’s considering skipping his usual healthy dinner and grabbing some pizza in an effort to cheer himself up when he hears someone call his name.

 

Shiro turns around, a smile pulling his lips up when sees it’s Keith. But the smile quickly turns into an awed expression when he sees the Harley Keith’s perched on. 

 

“Is that yours?” Shiro finds himself asking, skipping the usual formalities as he approaches the other man.

 

Obviously preening, Keith pats the gas tank. “Yep. Put her back together myself. Doesn’t matter what year it is, a Harley is still a Harley. Plus these old bikes have more of an edge to them than the new hoverbikes.”

 

Shiro nods as he takes a quick circle around the bike, admiring the sleek lines and clean paint job. “I’ve always wanted one. But I never got around to getting one.”

 

“How come?”

 

With a quiet laugh, Shiro admits, “Came out of my adrenaline junkie phase before I could.”

 

Keith’s leather jacket squeaks as he crosses his arms. The casual once ever he directs at Shiro makes the taller man want to shiver. “Can’t say I can imagine you as an adrenaline junkie.”

 

Laughing, Shiro teases, “Don’t let the flower shop image fool you. I used to be a pilot.”

 

The next look lingers. Shiro feels heating rising up his spine along with the slow drag of Keith’s dark blue eyes. He gets the distinct feeling Keith’s trying to imagine him wearing a tight body suit or an officer’s uniform. And that’s a flattering thought. 

 

It also pulls him a step closer to Keith when their eyes meet. Shiro feels his heart race inside his chest when Keith offers, “Want a ride home? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

Oh the  _ images  _ that brings to Shiro’s mind. For a split second he’s not sure if Keith means for it come across as innuendo laden as it does. But the grin he gives Shiro, while holding a spare helmet out? Leaves no doubts.

 

It’s not the most blatant invitation that’s been offered to him. But it’s one that he’s been hoping to receive since that first day Keith walked into their store. It’s a hope that’s grown steadily with every little conversation they’ve had since then.

 

For Shiro, it’s a no brainer to accept Keith’s invitation. Feeling breathless, Shiro nods while gesturing behind him, “Just let me lock that up.”

 

“Take your time.”

 

\--

 

It’s a fifteen minute ride back to his apartment but sitting behind Keith on his bike? With his body pressed snug against Keith’s back and thighs? Trying not to let his feelings overwhelm him? The entire ride feels no longer than the blink of an eye.

 

Shiro honestly feels like the ride couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes. Which is incredibly disappointing because he’d like to spend more time pressed up against Keith’s body like that.  _ Or any other way _ , a sly voice in his head pops up. The thought causes a flush to rise to his cheeks. 

 

“Have fun?” Keith grins when he sees Shiro wobble off the back of the bike.

 

With a nervous laugh, Shiro admits, “Yeah.” 

 

A little  _ too  _ much fun because his dick is starting to perk up. There’s another twitch at the base of his gut when Keith yanks his helmet off, hair fluttering around his neck in a way that makes Shiro’s fingers itch with desire. 

 

Shiro rolls the helmet around in his hands before he does something stupid. Like reach out and pat down a couple of fly away hair.  _ How can he make helmet hair look good?  _ Shiro wonders helplessly.

 

Blissfully unaware of the effect he’s having on Shiro, Keith stretches his arms over his head, grunting as something cracks into place in his space. The stretch reveals a couple of inches of his sleeve. Shiro stares at the colorful artwork obviously enough that Keith catches it.

 

He rolls up his sleeve with a grin, “Pretty cool right?”

 

Shiro traces the geometric shapes that seamlessly merge into elegant baubles filled with delicate watercolor-esque landscapes and nods. It’s hands down the most unique tattoo sleeve he’s ever seen. He wishes they were someplace with better light and Keith without his jacket so that Shiro could admit the whole tattoo. It’s honestly a work of art. 

 

Keith’s fingers dance up his arm, “My roommates girlfriend did these. I planned it and she did some tweaks and all the art. I wanted something that was minimalistic but really artsy? Really sharp contrasts. She’s great with that kinda stuff. But she hated me when I included some florals in there.”

 

Florals. Shiro blinks at the reminder. Curiously he asks, “Is that why you kept buying those flowers?”

 

Keith laughs. It’s a soft, rough sound but warm. Comforting. Shiro’s breath catches at the sound. 

 

“Kinda. We get a lot of clients who want some kind of floral tattoo and I’m the guy who does them. But sometimes they ask for flowers I’ve never seen, like anemone’s or dahlia’s. And I hate practicing using images so I come down to your shop to buy a flower and do some practice sketches. I wind up having a bunch of references that way in case someone wants the same flower later.”

 

When he hears it, Shiro feels like that’s the most obvious explanation in the world. It makes him wonder how Hunk and him missed it.

 

Keith props his chin on his palm, grinning at Shiro when he asks, “What’d you think I was getting them for?”

 

“Best guess was for your girlfriend or boyfriend.” 

 

The laugh Keith lets out at that, and the ease with which he says, “Bad guess! I don’t have either.” have hope blooming in his chest. 

 

It gives Shiro the courage to take a step forward, asking, “You uh wanna come in for a coffee? As a thank you for the ride home?”

 

“Sorry,” Keith’s expression drops apologetically. Shiro feels his heart sink into his shoes. “I gotta get back to my place. I promised my room mate I’d clean up our place before her girlfriend shows up tomorrow. And if I don’t she’s gonna kick my ass.”

 

“She sounds terrifying.”

 

Keith laughs, “She is. But uh, we could do coffee tomorrow?”

 

The hopeful lit to the question makes Shiro smile in relief. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

“Great,” Keith grins at him. “What time’s your lunch break?”

 

“Noon.”

 

“I’ll swing by your shop then.”

  
It’s charming to Shiro that Keith waits until he’s in the building, waving goodbye before he drives off. As he walks up the stairs to his apartment, Shiro feels his smile growing into a happy grin. He can’t wait ‘till tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

As Shiro waits for Keith to get his tools and inks together, he ponders the last few months.  _Seven months_ , his brain corrects. Shiro smiles, watching Keith work. When he thinks about it, it's been a whirlwind seven months. But they feel more like years. The ease camaraderie between them coupled with their matching sense of humor has allowed them to move from uncertain waters to calm oceans.

 

Sure there've been some bumps along the road but they've hung on. They're worked together to overcome their issues and become a stronger unit. Keith doesn't struggle as much when opening up to Shiro about how he's feeling. In return, Shiro doesn't put up as much of a strong front anymore. He's learned the quiet pleasure that lies in hiding under Keith's arm when the world seems too dark and cold. He hopes that he provides the same comfort to Keith on his bad days.

 

Keith plops down into his chair, rolling forward until he's seated next to Shiro's waiting form. "Any second thoughts?" 

 

Grinning, Shiro shakes his head. "Nope.  I'm pretty excited about this." 

 

"Baby's first tattoo." Keith teases with a grin of his own, snapping on a pair of purple gloves. "Before we start, you sure you don't need to go to the bathroom or anything?"

 

With another shake of the head, Shiro settles into the chair. He closes his eyes as Keith cleans the area of skin where he'll draw the tattoo. The sharp sting of the alcohol keeps Shiro in the moment. He can't help but hold his breath when Keith presses the stencil against his skin, a thrill of excitement shooting through him as it settles in that he's  _really_ doing this. Somewhere in the back of his head, Hunk moans pitifully at the impending next step. His friend is not the biggest fan of needles. Well, neither is Shiro but thankfully, from his position where he's lying face down on the seat, he won't be able to see what Keith's doing.

 

 _Like that's gonna stop you from feeling it,_ a voice snarks in his head.

 

As Keith peels the stencil off his back, Shiro clears his throat and asks, "Is Allura done with your design?"

 

The wheels of Keith's stool squeal when he moves. "Still working on it. She said she'll have a couple of ideas for me tomorrow. I think the whole daisies motif is throwing her off."

 

"How come?"

 

There's a soft burst of buzzing sounds as Keith checks his tattoo gun that sends Shiro's heart racing nervously. "I guess because they're simple? Flowers are complicated enough to do if you want them realistic. But when it's a simple flower, I guess it gets harder because there's less room for error.  _Because_ it's simple."

 

Shiro frowns at the far wall.  _That makes sense I guess_. "I think she's mostly confused why we picked daisies."

 

"What's wrong with daisies? They're such a good flower!"

 

Keith's chuckles warm his heart. "I know. I guess she was expecting roses. That's what people tend to associate with love."

 

"Fair enough," he mumbles as Keith drags his stool back over, needles buzzing.

 

Shiro holds his breath, body tightening in anticipation. But then Keith slides his hand down his side, covered hand feeling odd against his healed burn marks. "Tell me if you need a break, okay? And remember-"

 

"Just breath through the pain." 

 

He feels Keith drop a kiss on the back of his neck, right under his hairline. It sends tingles racing down his back and his heart racing for a whole new reason. Shiro buries his smile in his hands as Keith murmurs, "Exactly. Okay. Here we go."


End file.
